


Sing Along

by afteriwake



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 21:32:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/944889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is going to give Amy up once and for all if his plan doesn't work. But Amy has a plan of her own, and uses someone else's words to tell Sherlock exactly how she feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sing Along

**Author's Note:**

> Set in an AU setting where Amy and Rory divorced after episode five of "Pond Life" (so "Asylum Of The Daleks" and the rest of season 7 never happened). Inspired by an anon commenter on Tumblr who asked if I was going to write more Pondlock stories and a Tumblr post from **imagineyourotp** that caught my eye about one person in your OTP singing along to a love song while dancing with the other person in your OTP. The song is Selena Gomez's "Come  & Get It."

They disagreed on music, among other things. It wasn’t as though they would agree on everything; Sherlock knew little of relationships, and he was still trying to figure out how this one had started and where it was going, but he knew enough when he had agreed to her request for coffee and conversation that there were probably going to be disagreements. After all, he had those with John, and Lestrade, and Molly, and everyone except possibly Mrs. Hudson. Why wouldn’t he have them with Amelia Pond as well?

She fascinated him. There was a lot to her life that she kept close to the vest, just as he did with his own history, his own demons. He did not talk about the three years he spent taking down Moriarty’s criminal network, and she did not talk about the span of time between her engagement to her now ex-husband and her divorce. What little he had been able to parse out of her had been compelling, but every time he tried to press for more information she would get close lipped and silent. After a while, he simply stopped asking.

Two people with secrets, with parts of them held away from the world at large and not shared, they do not make for the best people to be in a relationship. And he felt at times they had more downs than ups, that there was more fighting than anything else. He would have asked John for his advice, but he didn’t want to bother him in his new life. John had it all right. John had love and adoration, John had happiness. Sherlock envied him. Not that he didn’t have moments of happiness. He did. But they were small and tenuous, and few and far between. And he hated that.

It had come to a head during this fight, when Amelia had stalked out. He decided then he would do what he had held out on doing, to at least see if doing this one thing meant he had a chance to save something that was fragile and prone to breaking but still important to him. He knew where she would be. She would be at one of the local clubs, people watching and losing herself in the crowds to dance. She might have a drink, maybe two, but drinking was never her thing. She wouldn’t get pissed and make a fool out of herself.

He hated places like this. The music was loud and sounded as though sounds were thrown together. He always ached for his classical pieces after this, for the violins he loved the most, for the music that soothed his heart and soul. But he would endure it one time more, possibly for the last time if his plan did not work. Because if it didn’t work he was going to let her go, once and for all.

It wasn’t hard to find out which one she went to. Molly had become a friend of hers, and Sherlock just had to ask the right questions, make a few vague promises that he wouldn’t cause a scene in public before Molly told him where they would be. He arrived at the club at eleven that evening and searched her out. She wasn’t hard to spot; the flaming ginger hair shone under the lights, and he recognized the dress as something she had bought to impress him at the start of their relationship. But now that he was here, in this setting that was still foreign to him no matter how many times he was there, he found himself nervous.

She spotted him first. She froze for a moment, lowered her arms and made her way over to him. “What do you want, Sherlock?” she asked, settling a hand on each of her hips.

“To dance,” he said quietly. If they were dancing, if he got close to her, then he could talk to her. He would lean in and keep her close and open himself up, see if it was enough to save whatever it was they had.

The song switched to something slower, more seductive. He recognized it as something she would occasionally play on the radio and dance around to when she was cooking, singing along with the vocalist. She took his hand and led him to the dance floor. Other couples were gyrating against each other as the song played, but she stayed close and still. He didn’t like dancing, he rarely did it, but tonight he had to at least fake it for a bit. He had to stay close enough to spill his secrets.

She let him pull her closer, but when he opened his mouth to speak she pulled a hand away and put a finger on his lips. The song had already started to play, had been on for a little under a minute, but she waited for the chorus before she removed her finger. “You ain't gotta worry, it's an open invitation. I'll be sittin' right here, real patient,” she began to sing along with the young woman who originally sang this song. He had always loved Amelia’s voice. It was one of the many things that had mesmerized him. And this time, instead of tuning the song out, he focused on what she was singing as he held her close. “All day, all night, I'll be waitin' standby. Can't stop because I love it, hate the way I love you. All day, all night, maybe I'm addicted for life, no lie.”

She pulled her lips away from his ear and looked at him. They had never really started to dance, but she gave him a small smile as the song went into another verse before she leaned back in. She started to sway to the beat and he kept in rhythm with her as she went back to singing along with the song. It was almost a pity when it was over and a faster paced song started. She pulled away from him, licking her lips slightly. “I take it you wanted me to really hear the lyrics,” he said quietly.

“I did. I think it’s time we stop keeping secrets,” she said with a nod. “I think it’s time we talk about the things we've been avoiding."

He looked at her as realization dawned on him. “Molly told you I would be coming.”

She nodded. “She’s really horrible at keeping secrets. How she managed to convince everyone you were dead I will never know.” She gave him another small smile. “I told the DJ to put that song on when I left the dance floor to go talk to a tall handsome man with curly hair. He’s a friend of mine so now I owe him a favor, but I made my point.”

“You did,” Sherlock said with a nod.

“Why don’t we go somewhere we can talk? Really talk, I mean. There’s a lot you want to know, and a lot I need to tell. And it might be best if you were sitting down when I told you.”

He nodded, and her smile grew. He had an inkling of what he was about to hear, of impossible adventures with a man who whisked her away who rightly shouldn't exist, mostly because she talked in her sleep. It might be hard to believe, hard to take in, but she had never lied to him before. He would give her the benefit of the doubt and return the favor by opening up about his own dark past. As she took his hand in hers and led them out of the club, he hoped that this would mean nothing but good things for their future.


End file.
